Darn CatMy cat got in a fight. The cat that lives across the street (I have dubbed him Neighborcat) is big orange tom just like my kitty. They’ve had a ongoing feud ever since we moved in. A couple weeks ago ago we were awoken by the dulcet sounds of a cat fight right under our bedroom window. I caught my cat and checked him for wounds but found nothing that looked too drastic. Unfortunately two days later my cat had a foot more than double its normal size and I took him to the vet.
The vet installed a drain, prescribed antibiotics, and the cat came home in a cone. To add insult to injury he also put the cat on house arrest until he was healed. This cat is a very vocal cat, and a very particular cat. When something bothers him he yowls- not meows- yowls constantly.
The first night at home was nearly torture. Between listening to him try and wrestle the cone off his neck, and listening to his incessant caterwauling, I didn’t get much sleep. The next morning he literally followed me around howling for hours.
I knew he was miserable and there was nothing I could do for him. I offered him delicious wet food. I scratched his cone-bound head, and stroked his body where he couldn’t groom. None of that satisfied my miserable cat, and his wailing continued unabated.
The lack of sleep, and the constant noise was doing a number on my nerves. Finally I couldn’t take it any more. I picked up the cat and began to pray.
“Dear Heavenly Father…I take this cat in my arms to give him a blessing…give him comfort… bless him that he will accept the conditions of his treatment…help him to manage his restrictions… ” I closed the prayer and said ‘amen.’
By the time I finished the cat was sick of being held and was clawing his way out of my arms. He flopped to the ground on his injured foot, and yowled at me twice before wandering off towards his food dish.
Remarkably I can say, without exaggeration, that the change was instant, dramatic, and persistent. After eating a bit he disappeared. I went looking for him to make sure he hadn’t suddenly had an adverse reaction to his medications and died under my bed. He was under the bed, but he hadn’t died. He still looked miserable, and still really wanted his head scratched, but he quit complaining about it. He remained miserably compliant until the cone was removed about a week later.
He had accepted the conditions of his treatment, just as I blessed him to. I gave my cat a blessing. And it worked. I wonder who else I could bless.